Soren Valentine Poems
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An Old Tree
An old tree stands by the edge of a cliff,
awaiting, awaiting the waters to lift.
The waves he cherishes like God's gift,
but through weeds and mountains he must first sift.
Lonely, pleading like a beggar,
he looks to the sea and wishes to tell her
to raise her waters with a good will,
so he could stand alone in the Home of Thrill.
An old tree stands alone on a hill,
forsaken and abandoned, he slowly dies,
as he watches the world's ages fall into a ghyll,
he sets his heart to where the sea-nymph cries.
In mimicry of the sea-nymph's tears, ...
A single autumn leaf blows, leading me like a beatific fool upon the path of the Forgotten Ones.
I mutter prayers for eternal slumber as I mindlessly wander about the decaying road, led by this pale light.
I reach the Gate of Emptiness and Desertion, and as I pass through, a Forest of Fluorescent White Trees assaults me with painful memories of my thralldom unto the crestfallen spirit that has oft been led to misery.
I have been filled with nothingness; The Man That Never Was.